train-wreck, I'm a train-wreck

These past two days I've spent my time in a Special Care Psychiatric unit. This means that I was with the most crazy of the mentally ill. These people were hearing voices, extremely depressed or suicidal.

Walking into the unit I was a little overwhelmed, as I'm sure most people would be. I had just toured the whole psychiatric wing and the last part was the Special Care Unit, which was very different from the other 2 units I had just come from. Those were very open, with lots of common areas and people sitting out, together. This Special Care Unit was one long hallway with a small common area, but with the nurse's station completely closed off by plexiglass. Needless to say, it was a little intimidating.

But I soon found that really, there was nothing much to be scared of. These people, while being a little crazy, were still just people. Now, I'm not saying that they all didn't have their fair share of issues, but that was no reason for me to think of them in any different light.

So, once I realized this and got over my little fear of the unknown I actually got to have some

pretty decent conversations with some of the men on the unit. And let me tell you, my mind was blown away. big time. I talked with one man about how he, and his son, both made meth in their basements, and consequently became addicted to it. Let me just say, this man was about 60 years old. 60 years old and addicted to methamphetamine, among other things. Can you imagine? Funny enough, I just had a lecture in class about substance abuse and all I could think about in class was the man that I had talked to who has been taking meth for a long, long time.

As a nursing major, I have a philosophy that because I am going into the health care field and am going to be taking care of others I need to first take care of myself. I try to eat healthy, work out on regular occasions and stay away from things that could potentially harm my body, whether now or later in life. To me, taking such addictive and dangerous drugs like meth, or even cigarettes just seems to me like you're throwing your life away. I know that everyone's live varies and under certain circumstances who's to say that I wouldn't have done the same thing. But as I sat looking around at the patients in this Special Care Unit, where most of the patients not only had severe mental illness but also some sort of drug addiction, and all I could think of is why would you ever want to start taking something like meth? I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to hear voices, or have violent mood swings, but to add on top of that also going through withdrawal- how bad it must be. I mean, I'm sure withdrawal alone would be enough to make me crazy.

Needless to say, this week was kind of crazy (no pun intended). I'm excited for this coming week, with my second week in Psych- hopefully I'll get to talk to some more people and learn more about just how much mental illness can affect one's life.